


looking a little grim.

by xjes



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xjes/pseuds/xjes
Summary: authors note: a little something i started writing a few months back and finally finished. its left very open ended.warning: inevitable life and death i guess.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 2





	looking a little grim.

You died today. It was a freak accident, a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t a particularly cold day that Tuesday, the rain was fine, yet relentless. It was the sort of rain that was inescapable, drenching you from all angles. The elderly gentlemen who had hit you now on his knees, voice hoarse, screaming at the top of his lungs for help. Little did he know, you had vacated your body seconds before. His car met a dip of water and caused his vehicle to skid out of control directly towards you. It somewhat helped that you didn’t see it coming, but you felt the collision bit by bit. Bones breaking on impact and skin splitting as you pounded against the concrete.

Oh well. It was over now. It had been a simple day until that point, the only plans you had were to attend a nine to five you loathed and wasn’t paid enough to do. Paramedics were soon on the scene tending to you as trained and a sad silence weaved through the crowd which had assembled around your corpse. Nosy vultures.

It was unbearable to look at yourself in such a state. Your scarf around your neck dishevelled and now stained red, it had been a birthday gift off of your neighbour. She was old, alone and knitted knitwear which she forced upon people as ‘gifts’. It was a horrid thought, one you wouldn’t dare say aloud, hell, not that you had the ability to now anyway. Why couldn’t it have been her? You had not lived. So many paths untaken and bad dates to experience and dogs to pet and bubble wrap unpopped and now you were stood above your paled body never to take another breath.

A breeze blew behind you, unusually warm on this bitter day. Dragging your eyes from the commotion in front of you, you found a figure stood alarmingly close. His eyes staring into your own, now a shadow of your own. It was clear the warmth you felt seconds before had been from his exhale. This was death, handsome, in an all-black suit. Perhaps if you had known he’d be this handsome you would have welcomed a date with death. His top lip twitched upward as if your lude throats were written all over your face. The stunned expression upon it soon faded with the realisation that he was here to take you away forever.

“What if I’m not ready?” you questioned in a hushed tone. 

“When is anyone ready to die?” His retort was quick as if reciting a well-revised script.

He stared directly into your eyes, how romantic you thought. Another smirk appeared on his lips. 

“You’re funny, you know that? People knocking on my door are usually on their knees begging for more time, for another chance or for mercy on their soul and all that jazz.” He rubbed his thumb against his chin.

“Does it work? The begging.”

“Maybe.”

You gulped, surely he was just teasing. Surely those who had escaped death would have a multi-million book deal by now. Please don’t take me away yet.

“But I like you,” he announced, confirming his mind-reading ability.

You scoffed at his nonchalant tone. It may be a beautiful face, but it was also extremely smug.

“I’m not a pet!” you scolded which only caused his humour to grow. “Please. I’m only twenty-four and I know ‘life’s not fair’, but I have more to offer I just know I do.” Taking a step closer to him he looks down upon you, his face now held not traces of pleasantness, only a cold calculation expression.

“Do you like rock, paper, scissors?” 

“What?” you frown.

“You know”- he motions each item with his hands. “Like the game.”

“Of course, I fucking know what it is. What are you getting at?”

“It’s a simple game of rock, paper, scissors. The rules are the rules. However, if you win, I let you go.” He explains with a shrug.

“And if you win, let me guess, I’m a goner?” Your arms now folded awaiting confirmation.

“Not quite. I want something else. I want those.” His arm raises to point at your face, his finger grazing your lips. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” You repeat. “That’s it?”

A simple nod was his reply.

“You’re nuts,” you shout.

“Well, you know the saying. You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps,” he confirms.

“I don’t even know your name. Do you even have a name?”

“Bucky.”

“Wow. You really are nuts,” you whisper with a shake of your head. He lets out a hearty laugh.

The joy upon his face only added to the perfection. A kiss wouldn’t be all that bad from a guy like him, right? Since his appearance, the scene behind you had now cleared away as if it were never there. The only things remaining were shards of glass and a dark patch of blood which had almost been completely washed away by the rain.

“How can I be sure you won't cheat?” your face full of concern.

“You can’t be.” You looked down to the ground. With nothing to lose, you couldn’t exactly argue, but you were displeased about having to trust this man, this personification of death.

“I won’t.” Your eyes met his again, his promise was all you had. 

“Fine. I’ll play with you.” He beamed once more.

“The pretty girls always want to play with me. Are you ready?” He asks with a smirk and you reply with a nod and nothing to lose. Both of you hold out your hands in your starting positions.

“Rock, paper, scissors!” You both chanted together fist slamming against the palms of your hands.

“Rock, smack. Paper, smack. Scissors, smack!”

You’d done it, you’d won. The win left you instantly and uncontrollably smiling. “I did it! Oh my god, I won, rock beats scissors!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Hold your horses doll, ‘aint you ever heard of two outta’ three?” he holds his hand up flapping slightly motioning you to calm down. “So yeah you won, you can put a tick on that tally chart of yours but we got two more to go.” Idiot. Of course, it was two games.

“Let’s get ready to rumble,” he shook out his hand and you readied your own.

“Rock, smack. Paper, smack. Scissors, smack!” You flinched. He smirked.

“Rock, smack. Paper, smack. Scissors, smack!” Shit.

“Well, would you look at that.” He taunted in front of you. “I won! I won! I did it, scissors beats paper,” he comically jumped up and down in a bid to mock your celebration moments ago.

“All right, settle down, Grim. It ‘aint over yet,” you snarled.

“You’re right, it’s not over till the dead girl sings.” He clapped back. You got back into position determined to win, determined to live. Death was a long way off and you refused to die in a badly knitted scarf.

“Rock, smack. Paper, smack. Scissors, smack!”

“Rock, smack. Paper, smack. Scissors, smack!” 

Well there you have it, it was over and done with. You screamed in frustration. It was over quicker than it started.

Bucky grabbed a hold of your shoulders before you bounced around anymore. Holding you still he looked deeply into your eyes before wiping away the tears that had started to gather along your waterline. 

“Sorry doll, you were always going to be mine,” he whispers and leans in to press his soft lips against your own.


End file.
